Psalm 23
by LuminiaAravis
Summary: A short one-shot I wrote for Matty and Mello describing their thoughts before the Takada Abduction. Mello thinks about the afterlife, his responsibility for Matt's death, and struggles with his faith in God. T for crude language and religious themes.


**Dedicated to Mihael Keehl, born 12/13/89 and Mail Jeevas, born 2/1/1990; both died 1/26/2010.**

**You will be missed.**

"Morning, gorgeous," Mello crooned. He basked in the gentle, radiant heat coming off of Matt's bare skin in the morning. Matt purred quietly and rolled over, pulling the comforter with him, red hair all askew and arms tangled up in the sheets.

Mello climbed over him and smiled into his face. "What's up?" Matt sighed dreamily, returning Mello's tender smile. "You're up early."

"Nah," Mello replied, "I just felt like making you breakfast, that's all. You awake yet?" he asked, double-checking the covers to make sure that Matt was warm.

"Maybe," Matt answered. He stared up at Mello, eyes not fully open, and asked, "Mel? C'n we eat in bed?"

"Sure!" Mello bounded off the mattress and ran into the kitchen with an uncanny vigor, grabbed the plate of toast he had made, and brought it back to bed using his sexiest swagger. Matt whistled as Mello alit on the edge of bed and placed the toast on his lap. "Eat up, champ," Mello said playfully.

A sweeping despair came over Mello as he watched his boyfriend eat. All his life, he had practiced his faith: Sure, he was a murderer and criminal, but he never killed without cause, and he was doing it all for L… Yesterday he had known all the answers. He knew that God lived in heaven and loved everyone, even Matty, a stanch atheist, and would help them when the moment came. He knew that heaven was where L went, and that dying wouldn't be so bad.

All of a sudden, Mello started to doubt. He wasn't sure if he wanted to die anymore. He wasn't sure if he wanted to risk Matt's life for the mission anymore. He wondered if there was toast in heaven, and chocolate, and cake… He wondered if he would see L and Matty there, though he knew he would… _It'll only be goodbye for a minute_, he reminded himself. _I'll see them again. I'll see them again. I'll see them again…_

"Mel?" Matt said with his mouth full. "Somfin' wrong? You look upshet."

"No, no," he answered. "Just eat, Matty. No use going out on an empty stomach."

Matt finished his breakfast, but with less enthusiasm. He watched Mello stare out the window, unblinking, for a long time. "This about the mission?"

Mello nodded very slightly.

Matt put down his plate and wrapped his arms very lightly around Mello's waist and shoulders. "Everything will be alright," he said. "You said it would just take the afternoon, right? So we'll get dressed, go out, do the damn thing, and then I'll take you out to dinner, 'kay?"

"Sure," Mello said shakily. He hadn't told Matt that the mission was going to either be fatal, or be a failure. He hadn't wanted to put Matt through the pain he was going through that morning. In any case, he wouldn't be around to go out to dinner. "Matt?" Mello asked, "Can I climb in bed with you?"

"Why not?" Matt responded, pulling back the covers so Mello could burrow in.

"It's gonna be a long day," Mello groaned. He stared at Matt's face for a long while, taking in all the details. His brilliant green eyes, his ruffled red hair, his eyebrows, his strong chin, his broad lips, his fair cheeks… "I love you."

"I love you too," Matt echoed, and planted a small kiss on Mello's forehead. "More than anything."

The alarm clock went off. "We gotta go," Mello said urgently. "We've got a thirty-second window, and if we don't make it, the whole plan is fucked."

The two jumped out of bed in unison and got ready to leave the apartment for the last time. Mello couldn't help but think terrible thoughts: There was the bed where he and Matt had made up after the mafia incident. There was the bathroom that they had screwed in more than used. There was the boarded-up window that he had put a TV remote through during an argument. There were all the scars on the headboard from where Matt had been slammed into it or tied to it. There were all the bloodstains on the carpet from the night that Matt had carried him up five flights of stairs, half-dead, half-naked, to save his life.

If he had known that the day was today, he wouldn't have pestered Matt about quitting smoking. He would have spent more money on Matty's birthday party. He wouldn't have yelled so much or so loudly. He would have told Matty "I love you" more than twice a week. He would have prayed more, he would have blown more shit up, he would have called Near one last time… But he was out of time.

Mello struggled to dress himself, fighting against the pangs of dread that rumbled in his chest and stomach. They had been with him for days, so strong that no matter how much chocolate he ate or how much he and Matt had sex, they wouldn't abate. Tears dropped from his eyes, slowly, one by one. "Damn it," he breathed.

"I know you're worried," Matt said softly, as he held Mello tightly from behind. "It'll be alright in the end. Just look forward to that dinner I promised you. It'll be great. I'm gonna get all your favorite foods, and we'll eat by candle-light…"

It was almost too much. "Don't be stupid," Mello choked. "We're late, dumbass. Get in the car." Matt obliged, and stepped out into the hall. Mello gripped the doorknob as tightly as he could on the way out.

"You coming?" Matt asked.

"Just a sec," Mello replied. He closed the door without locking it. As they started towards the garage together, Mello was surprised that Matt didn't object. "You know that I forgot to lock the door, right?"

"Yeah," Matt answered. "What, is this a quiz or something?"

"No. It's just…"

"I know that you're not going to survive this, Mel."

Mello's face contorted into a stricken frown. "But…"

"And I didn't mean that we're going to eat dinner here, either. I dunno about all this Jesus Christ shit you talk about all the time, but all hail to him if I do manage to get you for the evening, after all."

Mello clung to Matt for the briefest of moments, calming himself. "Matty, I prayed so hard for you."

"I know," he murmured.

"I'm scared."

"I know."

"You've known all along?"

"Yep." Matt grinned cheekily, but it was terribly reassuring. They parted ways shortly thereafter, Matt revving up the car, and Mello cramming the bike helmet on his head and lowering the visor. "See you in a few," Matt said, and drove off whistling.

Mello took a moment to think it over. Maybe it wasn't about going to Mass every Sunday and praying every night before bed… Maybe it wasn't about washing behind your ears and not sassing your parents…

Matt wasn't afraid. And Mello knew that he shouldn't be either: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies –" Mello stopped short and laughed. "Ha! So that's what he meant about dinner…" He left the garage.

"Right behind you."


End file.
